Threadbare
by death by idiots
Summary: AU In a world where appearances are paramount,women are trained to beguile powerful men. Ginevra, a renowned geisha, was taught to entertain, and to manipulate men for her own benefits. But falling in love was out of the question. Full summary inside.DG,B


**Threadbare**

_By: Particles of Sand_

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, nor do the historical facts I have scoured from the book, _Memoirs of a Geisha. _This chapter may be rather similar to the start of _Memoirs of a Geisha,_ but it's not if you observe carefully for the characters are portrayed differently, as are the things that came about. At the 1800-1900s, many families sold their daughters to geisha houses _(Okiya), _and so this is not clichéd. Even though of course, almost all of the geisha are actually from Japan and not Massachusetts. If you have read the book, you would be able to tell the difference between my plot and the book's. If you haven't, I _greatly_ recommend it.

_Summary: AU. In a world where appearances are paramount, women are trained to beguile the most powerful men. Where love is scorned as a mere illusion, Ginevra, a renowned geisha, was taught to entertain men, and to manipulate them for her benefits. However, falling in love with them was out of the question. She, who was trained to be as meek and obedient as a kitten, never dared to question her destiny or her life. Then she met a man like him. He who spoke in a foreign tongue, the language of her birth, opened her view to a world much different from what she could ever imagine in her wildest dreams – a libertine life, and to rebel against her pre-ordained destiny. A tale of two people finding out more about their place in life and their purpose of existence, at the same time also trying to gain their freedom, rebelling against fate. Trying to survive in a world where gender differences and cultural differences mean everything is far from easy. Would they survive the war? Could their love possibly overcome all boundaries? With a friend on each side, that might just be probable. DracoGinny, BlaiseLuna. _

A/N: This story is inspired by _Memoirs of a Geisha,_ the book, by Arthur Golden, which is truly a captivating read you could get yourself lost in. This will be told in Ginevra's point of view, unlike my other fanfics which are told in the third person's view, for I believed it would be more fitting in this story. This story is based before, during and after the World War II. Most, if not all, of the facts are procured from the book, and I apologize for my lack of knowledge in the field of History of Japan. Please R and R, comment and let me know what you think of it.

_I've been pushed down so many times_

_I feel this time will be the last_

_as I lay here fading_

_my thoughts are invaded by memories of my past_

_I feel the pressures of shame and rejection building_

_as I lay here on the floor_

_I have no strength to get up_

_I'm not worth it any more._

_Jenna--Down again_

**Chapter One**

_The Unwanted Child_

Suppose you and I were having tea together when I told you that exactly a year later, your father or mother would sell you out and you would be in training to be a geisha. What would be your reaction? Would you be so freaked out that you'd never talk to me again? Would you just laugh it off? You might not even be aware of what a geisha is! If you did you'd probably say, "That's a load of bull!" or "That's ridiculous! Where would you get that notion from?" And I would answer, "Simple! That happened to me!" And you would think I was joking. Really, it was true.

A couple of years ago, I would have behaved in the same way if someone had informed me that my parents would sell me and I would become a geisha. I didn't even know what the term 'geisha' meant. I wasn't even informed of it. I was absolutely clueless as to the word's meaning. I wasn't born a geisha, no matter how some people delude themselves and refuse to believe that I could have been born and raised up to a certain age in a secluded area in Massachusetts.

Once there had been a visitor of which had mentioned that he had came from that little town of which I had come from and I couldn't help looking rather surprised, almost not being able to contain myself and to squeal, "Really? I came from the same place too!" but years of training had taught me not to squeal, much less blurt out something of no importance. Besides, even if I had not been able to hold back and said something, there would be no difference. He could not possibly know my parents could he? Even if he had, it wasn't as if it would do any help for me.

Even as a young child, I knew my family was not in the least bit wealthy. In fact, the truth was we were living in poverty. A less polite way to say it was that we were poor. Dirt poor, in fact. Born as the youngest child of the family, and the only female, I always knew the state of our family. I had six brothers, who tended to be overprotective of me, and a loving pair of parents who cared for each and every one of us. Even though we were not in the least bit rich, we were happy. Or at least I was. I had more than I could ever ask for.

My father was a local farmer. Like most farmers, he had inherited his piece of land from the past generation, and became a corn farmer, like my grandfather and my great-grandfather had been. He felt it an honor to continue the family business, which he would then pass it to William after his demise. For William was, after all, the eldest son in the family.

My mother, though, was a totally different story from my father. She was not born poor. In fact, she was of the Prewett family, a well-known and powerful family who had a lot of influence over our region. At that time, she had been visiting in the area, and had gotten lost. Our father and she had only met briefly, but it was enough to leave a lasting impression. Or so she said. She had eloped with my father, risking being disowned. Which her parents had not done, but in the shame of it all, or that was what they called it, they had pronounced their daughter dead instead. Mother had always been rather upset to talk about that incident, for she had been totally cut off from her family.

That was what she told me. Back then, during the day Father would work on the fields with my brothers, William, Charles, Percival, Fredrick, George and Ronald. My mother would help out occasionally too. They would work together to get rid of the invaders; the weeds and other organisms, which were fighting for sunlight, water and nutrients with the wheat we owned.

I tried to help out once when I was only six, but Mother had told me lovingly, "Ginny dear, you're still too young for that sort of thing. How about we make a deal? When you grow older, I'll let you go out to help, okay?" that had me so happy I squealed and ran off never asking her any other questions of the same kind. She always had that effect on me. Making me feel that everything would be all right at the end of the day. Mother may not have been meek and soft-spoken like some mothers I knew, but she had a lilting tone to her voice, which brought out the velvety richness of her voice. Her caress was warm and comfortable, and I wouldn't have minded being in her caress for the whole day.

She used to tell me, "When you grow a little older, you'll be able to do a lot of things. You'll be able to travel and find out all about the world. You'll go to school, and learn a lot of new things. You'll know how to speak different languages, and make lots of new friends. You'll learn the things your father never learnt before, you'll be educated and you can get a nice job, and you will be a successful woman, much more successful than any of your brothers, you will be the first to move out into the large city, and live a lavish and luxurious life."

She said this firmly and assertively, every time she told me. The evening glow gave her red hair a halo, and it also illuminated her slightly plump face, causing a soft glow over her aged, yet still elegant face. It made her striking features look even more striking, and even her crystalline blue orbs seemed to sparkle under the luminous radiance of the setting sun. Her face was laced with lines due to age - and I only found out much later that they were wrinkles - that would make most women despair but I thought it made her look more wise and mature.

Her prediction had come true, in a most peculiar way, a way that I don't think she meant or expected it to. I did live a rather luxurious life as a geisha, and lived in a large city. But I think she meant for me to marry a rich man and become a high-class woman of society. After she said that, I would usually run off to play with the neighborhood children, skipping happily as I went, even though I had little idea of what my mother had meant. Sometimes my brothers would join me, and then they would go off again. Everything was perfectly fine until that day my world came tumbling down. Nothing had gone wrong, and everything was normal until dawn faded to dusk. My mother and I had even watched the marvelous sunset together on that day.

Up until now, which is already quite a number of years from that incident, I can still remember it as starkly clear as it had just happened just now. Father had woken up in the middle of night, as he said he had smelt a crisp smell in the wind, which indicated that something was burning. Slowly, each and every one of us had woken up too, for the smell had gotten too pungent for us to handle. It had even gotten hard to breathe.

I was among the first few to awaken. I peeped out the little window by the bedside, looking in awe at the view that greeted me. All I could see was a sea of fire. I learned later on that the fire had been set by the Prewett family, who had wanted to take revenge about my mother when we least expected them to. I remember I couldn't even see where it started and where it ended. I stood at the wide open main door, watching the magnificent view as the flames licked the ground and engulfed the whole wheat field. Father and Percival were busy pouring buckets of water over parts of the wheat field where they thought they could still save.

I was about to run along to help when Fredrick placed a soothing hand on my shoulder and shook his head. He then went along with George to help Father. I stood there as each of my brothers ran off to help Father to put out the fire. This must have been a comical sight to some people who passed by, but the situation was so frantic I could not even find anything funny about it. I watched helplessly as the field crumbled down to dust.

We had lost our only source of income. I was just a little girl of eight then, with lofty hopes and dreams which had all been shattered into pieces. I had also lost hope that I would be able to go to school, to my disappointment. Mother had been so enthusiastic about me being able to go to school, that I myself had gotten excited about it. But it seemed now that my wish would never come true. Worst of all, Mother, who was my utmost role model in life, had stayed in the house too long and had inhaled too much fumes, causing her to be unconscious. Nobody had noticed, no, not even I had, that Mother was missing from the scenes. I blamed myself for what had happened, seeing as I had not done anything to help, and yet had not noticed if anything else was wrong. I had only watched upon the raging fire, without doing anything else.

Then the next afternoon when I was sitting by my mother's bedside, I sang softly to her, hoping beyond hope that she would be able to make out what I was singing; wishing that she would wake up, but she never stirred. A knock came from outside, but I didn't move from my spot next to my mother. I heard the sound of the door opening, as I couldn't resist the urge to stand up and peep through a hole in the wall that had never been mended.

"Why Arthur! How nice it is to see you again! It really has been a long time, hasn't it?" I heard a deep voice filled with mirth ask my father as he stepped into our house and out of our doorway. It had been Dr Jones, who was a doctor who came to our neighborhood every two weeks to check if anyone was unwell. He didn't glance at Ronald, who had opened the door and instead just asked my father if anything was wrong.

Thus Father led him into Mother and his shared room and ushered me out of it. I left reluctantly, and went to the peep hole, looking in from outside, watching as he checked my mother for any signs of recovery or signs that she would be waking up soon. He had a grim expression on his face, and I suddenly had a foreboding feeling as if something was not right. It was probably that my mother was not as well as I thought she would be.

He came out not a moment later, as I had hoped, but spent a long time in the room that I was getting a little impatient of waiting. I tried to eavesdrop, and managed to make out a little of what Dr Jones and my father were discussing.

"Arthur, you do know that the chances of Mrs. Weasley waking up are only a slight percentage? She might never even wake up in this lifetime!" I heard Dr Jones say. I could only guess to what my father answered since I never heard him respond, he probably had done an action which could be a nod or a shake of his head. It sounded to me that he had probably nodded his head for what the Doctor said next was this.

"Very well," he had said in a defeated sort of tone, "but the herbs needed to sustain her health will cost a small fortune. But since you have made up your mind, I cannot do anything to stop you." That was all I heard before he took up his briefcase and informed Father that he would be back in a few days' time to pass the herbs to him, and that was when he would need to pay the full amount to him. He nodded, before instructing me to open the door to let him out.

In fear that Mother might never awaken, I slid into Mother's room soundlessly and took vigil by Mother's bedside and told her a favorite story of mine that she had told me many times throughout my childhood, in hopes that it would awaken her; for if it could not, I didn't think anything else would. To my disappointment, there was not even a slight indication that she had heard me. "Please get better soon," I said as I tip-toed out of the room, not making a sound, trying my hardest to hold back my tears, of which a few had fallen onto the ground.

There seemed to be a tense atmosphere ever since the fire incident. Those few days passed very quickly, and before long Dr Jones was on our doorstep again. This time Father emerged from his and Mother's shared room carrying what seemed a heavy bag full of gold. I didn't know what was inside the bag at that time, but I could see from the way he was carrying it that it was of utmost importance. He exchanged it with the small bag of herbs Dr Jones was carrying that seemed to be what he had mentioned the other day about being able to sustain Mother's health.

William, Charles and Percival went out to work the next day. Fred and George seemed to also be looking for odd-jobs. For the days following the day Dr. Jones left, we only had enough money to afford two meals a day; the second meal consisting of the first meal's leftovers. It would seem that our entire fortune had been spent, and we had worse days ahead. The money my brothers provided us was barely enough to pay for our daily expenditure, but it was not enough to pay for the taxes.

Just like that, almost a year had passed, and we had piled up a huge debt of taxes. One afternoon, when I came back from playing with some girls who lived nearby and whose parents had the same occupation, I had the shock of my life when I saw a burly looking man standing at the front door of our house, with a fierce expression on his face. As I walked closer to him, I saw that he was having a not-so nice conversation with my father. In fact, they were quarreling.

"Mr Weasley, we have already given you many allowances. But this has gone on for too long!"

"Please let us have a little more time, Mr Clarke! I promise, once we harvest the wheat and sell it, we'll return the money to you!" By then we had managed to sow some seeds in our land, but they would only be ripe in at least a month's time. And it would also take a while for all of it to be sold out.

"We've already given you ample time, but that's what you've said for the past few months! How about if you hand over one of your sons to work as my slave to repay your debts?"

"No! Not my sons!"

They were talking about the taxes we owed, I knew, for because of that, my father had developed deep creases on his forehead where they seemed etched on permanently. Then as I stood there, their conversation seemed to have ended as the burly man called Mr Clarke turned around and almost walked straight into me. He looked down at me with the slightest hint of curiosity as I stared right back at him. Then he seemed to have one last thing to say to my father.

"If you don't raise the funds necessary by the day after tomorrow, I'll take this girl and train her in Japan as a geisha to pay off your debts! I'm sure there is an okiya interested in a foreign girl over at Japan. Especially one with such a pretty nose, nice lips and such peculiar, brilliant eyes." He said and smiled coldly as he faced my father once again.

When I looked at my father, he wouldn't look at me. His cheeks were sunken; his eyes blank, telling me nothing. For one of the few times in my life, I was truly afraid. But I tried my best to calm myself down, and willed my own eyes not to show the fear I felt. Would my father really sell me to the scary Mr Clarke? I didn't want to go, but surely he wouldn't force me, would he? He couldn't, he wouldn't, and he was my father for goodness' sake! My father loved me, he was kind and compassionate. So he wouldn't sell me off. Right? I waited for my father to say 'no', but it never came.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm really sorry," he said as he refused to look me in the eye. He looked as if he didn't have the strength to, or probably he just didn't have the courage. Mr Clarke gave a cold laugh as he answered, "I suppose this is the right decision. If you were to sell off your sons as slaves, you and your precious little daughter would die of starvation, and your sons would die of having such heavy workload. If she were to be a geisha, she could earn so much more money, and you would be able to pay off your debts! I'll come collect her tomorrow."

No, he couldn't have done this. That man referred to me as a thing! He wasn't a good person at all! What if Mother woke up and wanted to see me? She would be upset if she couldn't find me. What about my brothers? My mind was racing as I tried to think of the possibilities, and trying to convince myself that it wasn't true. Then the truth of it all came tumbling down. My very own father gave me away to the mean-looking man whom he called Mr Clarke.

The night before I departed for Japan, I went to Mother's bedside one last time. She looked so frail, so thin; completely unlike herself before the fire. She had been what others would call plump, but now she looked so weak. Lying there with an ashen gray complexion, she looked as if she knew what was happening. I told her of everything that had happened, and that I was leaving her tomorrow. I could hear my brothers quarreling with my father, as they had been strongly against the idea of me leaving and going off to Japan. I was grateful for that, I really was, but once Father had made up his mind, no one could do anything about it.

Father had been telling me ever since that he was sorry, but I refused to listen to his explanation. I never thought he would do this to me. When Charles, William, Percival and all my brothers had returned home and received the news, they seemed shocked that my father would do such a thing. He had explained the reasons why, and my brothers had accepted them by the end of the night.

I was upset. I felt deceived, unwanted. I wanted to speak out and say that I wouldn't belong there, at whatever an okiya was, but I couldn't find my voice. I felt betrayed, and by the ones I had trusted most. It just wasn't fair. My mother would never have let this happen. She was the only one who could even make Father change his mind. And it was my entire fault that she would never awaken. '_Maybe this is my punishment,'_ I thought at that time, making me even more miserable than I was in the first place.

So the next day Father and Mr Clarke made a decision and came to an agreement that I would be sent to an okiya in Kyoto, where I would begin my training as a geisha to repay my debts. As my father hugged me tightly, I returned the hug slightly, although I would never forgive him for selling me out. My brothers had hugged me on their way to work, and even Ronald had seemed upset at the prospect of me leaving.

As Mr Clarke brought me along to the train station, I never looked back. And I vowed to myself that I would never _ever_ love anyone else for as long as I live.

I never broke that vow for the whole of my geisha years. Well, almost never. I never fully trusted anyone else, leaving everything – including destiny – to fate. I only learnt how to love and live my life to the fullest again after a long time, with the help of some friends.

--------------------------------------------

A/N: Next chapter will be on Ginny's trip to Kyoto, where she will start her training, and will begin her journey of being a geisha. Draco might come in next chapter, wink! Only maybe, or he'll come in on later chapters. Come on, please review? Or I'll make someone die! LOL XD! Review and I'll give mistletoe? Please R and R!

_Liked it? Hated it? Good? Bad? If you review, I'll know! Constructive criticism greatly appreciated! _


End file.
